#but let us not forget that the killing of jews is still very much the goal of many fascist organizations | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

inkyblinders · 4 years ago

Text

Dancing with the Devil: Part II

Part 1

Pairing: Luca Changretta x Reader

Author’s note: This was so embarrassing to write not because of smut...but because I’m crushing hard on Adrien Brody right now. And I can’t even share this obsession with anyone because… he’s kinda niche? Someone please reassure me that I’m just going through a phase because dear God why can’t I stop watching Darjeeling Limited just to see him ahhh.

The story picks up right after the end of Part 1, so I recommend reading that first. Comments, likes, and reblogs are always appreciated, let me know what you think!

Summary: Following your meeting with Luca Changretta, you face the Shelby family and Tommy's reaction. (2.6k words)

Warnings: Smut, angst, swearing

Tag: Let me know if you would like to be added or removed

@anythingwriter, @rrtxcmt, @shut-chan

_____________________________________________________________

You barely make it into your bedroom before he is all over you. The buttons of his crisp, tailored shirt fall like marbles. He moans when you nip the skin of his neck, right over his tattoo of the black cross, legs tangled together like a depraved waltz.

When he grinds into you, you shudder deliciously at the hardness that meets between your bare thighs.

How easy would it be for him to kill you after he fucks you, leaving your corpse twisted in the bedsheets. You know Tommy would find it when he eventually remembers that he has not seen you for days.

“Signorita, you know I come to you with the most honorable of intentions.” He murmurs, as if sensing your thoughts.

“You're not a very honorable man then.” A laugh that turns into a gasp as he trails his hand lower and strokes between your legs. No, not very honorable at all. And pretty soon all thoughts of honor are forgotten as he coaxes a moan from your throat.

His fingers are magic. The cold outline of his onyx rings scald your skin each time he crooks a finger inside you. Knowing exactly what you need, seeking your depths, swirling, rising to rub the clit, all the while exploring the flushed expanse of your body with his other hand.

Shoulder to breasts to hips and back again.

Without meaning to, you’ve let this stranger take control of your entire being. But God, do you crave this pure ecstasy.

It’s as if he wants to know precisely how much you can take before you're undone. So when you clench around his hand and feel the familiar ache he is right there, helping you ride the wave of pleasure, never breaking the rhythm of his thrusting fingers even as you curse, rake your nails down his back.

You almost cry out his name when you come. But you bite into his shoulder instead.

“Sweetheart, I’m gonna have to hear you next time.” He growls.

His words barely register as you come down from the high. Aftershocks spark like tiny flames. Now you are wearing his scent as much as he is wearing yours.

“Be inside me,” You whimper, tugging at his soft hair, urging him for more.

He rasps an empty warning, “What's my name, sweetheart?”

Of course. All this time you've never acknowledged you know of his identity. There was no use in trying to hide it now.

“Luca,” you breathe. And his eyes gleam with approval.

With a snap of his hips, he plunges into silky warmth. The fullness stretches you to your limit, head thrown back. It’s good, so good. Every withdrawal of his thrust is a blessing because you know what follows next. It’s him inside you again, wrapping you with his touch and the scent of tobacco and roses.

“Does your Tommy fuck you like this? Like the way I do?”

“He’s not mine.” You choke out, punishing Luca with a bite on the neck that elicits a chuckle rather than a yelp of pain.

He kisses you, your foreheads pressed together. “A damn shame for him.” Soon he starts to quicken his pace, going faster, more erratic, his breathing heavy upon your ears.

Yes, you urge him, come on, now.

And this is your chance. In a flash you roll on top of him, pinning down his shoulders with your hands. He tries to arch up but you stop him with a knee.

“How many men did you bring, Changretta?” You ask, making your voice rough to mask the lust, pressing your hands around his jugular.

It's a pleasure to see him like this. Shocked at your actions, maybe even scared. Naked with want but unable to do anything to relieve it. Unless he tells the truth.

“Fifteen. Why baby, am I not enough for you?” He laughs breathlessly, hands trailing goosebumps along your hips, tracing the contour of your breasts. The jib doesn't hurt you. After all, men have said worse. He tries to surge into you again, and his hot member pulses on your thighs.

“Do you swear on your honor? That you’re telling the truth?” You insist, squeezing him harder. The touch brands his skin as much as it brands yours.

In a voice full of self-mockery he says, “Yes I swear on my honor. Now let me in, clever Isabel.”

You take him in you, the sensations amplify a thousandfold. You try teasing him, going slowly in and out, but soon you are caught up in the sensation of him completely at your mercy and you ride him, faster, until you keen his name, until he too is undone.

****

Through the haze of dawn, he stumbles out of bed and gets dressed. Before he dons his hat once more, Luca leans down to whisper in your ear, as soft as sin.

“You tell Tommy Shelby he may expect a visitor in the night. I'm coming for him as the angel of death. The vendetta has begun…” He kisses your hair.

“I’ll see you soon, sweetheart.”

The door clicks shut. You rise from your pillow, and a small, hard lump rolls next to your hand.

It is a signet ring of onyx and gold.

****

“So we all get a death letter from the mafia, but Izzy gets jewelry?” Ada huffs as the family filters into the betting shop. As usual, Tommy holds court at the front of the table, brooding over a glass of whiskey. You roll your eyes as Arthur and John try to cover their snort of laughter with a cough.

“If you want it, you can have it, Ada. He’s probably planning on killing me too.”

“Doubt it. You’re not a Shelby, and we’re the ones who killed his father. Well, someone did, to be precise.” She shoots a bitter look at Tommy, who doesn’t even have the decency to look ashamed.

Despite Ada’s matter-of-fact tone, the words cut to your heart. Not a Shelby.

It’s not her fault. No one knows you’ve been sleeping with Tommy, not even your dearest friend. It’s a lonely secret to keep, but at least you can look at the family square in the eye and not have to worry about the things they say behind your back. Or worse, pity you.

You can handle the violence and moral ambiguity of Tommy’s business. But to lose the love and respect of the Shelbys would break your heart.

“What was the mafia man like, Izzy?” Finn asks eagerly. It’s obvious the boy is thinking of the dashing, gun-wielding gangsters he’s seen in the pictures.

“He was a wrinkly old brute. Kind of like your arsehole brother Tommy.” A smile to take the edge off the insult. But Tommy only looks off into space. As if he hasn't paid attention to this entire conversation.

Arthur clears his throat. “Now, let’s get one thing straight. It was me who pulled the trigger on his dad, so the blame falls on me.” He pats Linda’s hand even as his voice is heavy with guilt.

“No one’s blaming you Arthur, you weren’t the brains behind the operation, no offense.” Ada says. He is about to say something when Polly cuts in.

“Stop squabbling like children. We’ve all voted for truce, despite everything Tommy’s done to us—” The words nearly having us hanged hover pointedly in the air. “—So let’s focus on the matter at hand." She fixes Tommy with a sharp look.

“What’s the news from Camden Town? Will Solomons help us?”

“No.” He says tiredly. And all of a sudden you feel sorry for teasing him. He look gaunt. There are shadows under his eyes, even more so than usual. Without you to remind him to eat, you can imagine his diet for the past few days consisted more of alcohol and cigarettes than anything substantial.

“Spent three hours on a fucking tour of his bakery and another pretending to drink his piss-poor rum. I think he was trying to get me sloshed so I’d forget what I came for.” Tommy rubs his head.

“He’s refusing to send his men to help. Said he’s not going to go after another oppressed people.”

“Did you tell him the Italians are rounding up Jews in their country as we speak?” Polly asks incredulously.

“Wouldn’t make a difference to Alfie. Besides, that’s just an excuse. He’s really just a fucking coward.”

Polly looks troubled at this, as does the rest of the family. Everyone had been counting on Alfie’s friendship with Tommy, however peculiar, to help them with the vendetta. What they hadn’t expected was his extreme sense of self-perseverance. How are they going to protect themselves now?

“Before everyone panics, I’d like to say something.” Tommy clears his throat, setting down the whisky.

“As you may all know, two nights ago our Izzy encountered Mr. Changretta in the Garrison. He bought her a drink and asked her to deliver an official beginning of the vendetta.” He chooses this time to finally look at you. You hold his gaze until he looks shiftily away.

“We can also assume that he has been scoping out Small Heath, looking for any weaknesses on our turf. Now, Izzy has something to share with you all.”

You stand up uncertainly. The last time a woman other than Polly tried to speak her mind at the table it had been Esme, who still refuses to come to the betting shop unless Tommy is not here.

“While Mr. Changretta was, er, indisposed at the Garrison, I found some items in his coat that I think could be useful.” You fish out a passport and a stack of papers from your skirt pockets.

“Good job, Izzy! Oh, I knew we could count on you more than my idiot brother.” Ada beams.

“Becoming a right little spy, eh?” John ruffles your hair good-naturedly. As everyone gathers around, Polly gives a low whistle.

“Goodness, if this is your definition of an ugly brute, I wonder who’ll really catch your fancy, darling.”

You flush. The documents were obtained shortly after Luca had fallen asleep. It was an exercise in agility, trying to extricate yourself from his tangle of limbs, especially when you wanted nothing more than to stay in bed, encased in his warmth.

To your own credit, the papers were highly useful indeed. Some were maps of Birmingham, circles drawn in places where the Shelbys are known to frequent. The Garrison. Charlie’s Yard. The Arrow House. There was also stationary from The Stanton, a hotel just outside of the city.

There had been another piece of paper in the stack, a letter. But you kept that for yourself.

“We all have Izzy to thank for bringing us this valuable information.” Tommy’s voice rises above the chatter. “I will be personally examining all the documents and think of a plan. In the meantime, everyone stay alert, stay armed, and stay together.”

“Now if no one has any further questions, I need to have a private word with her. Alone.”

*****

You twirl the onyx ring around your finger as everyone filters out. It’s much too big but you still wear it anyways. The thick band of gold is comforting in its own way. And despite what you told Ada earlier, you don’t want to give it to anyone else.

Tommy’s curt voice snaps you from your reverie.

“Was it good, then?”

A small muscle tics on the underside of his jaw. His previously blank expression is now cold. The coward in you compels you to feign ignorance.

“What do you mean, Tommy?” You ask lightly.

“Did it feel good to have that fucking wop inside you?”

You burst out laughing. “Christ, Tommy. Did you pick up that word from Alfie? You sound bloody ridiculous when you’re trying to be crass, you know.”

“Don’t fucking change the subject, Isabel.” Tommy snaps.

“Oh, so I’m Isabel, now? You only call me that when you’re trying to get me in bed. Is that what you want? A bit early in the evening if you ask me.”

“What I want for you is to tell me how it felt having that man inside you, inside---”

You blaze with anger. “My sex life is none of your business, even if you are an occasional participant. I did what you would have wanted, and now I’ve got intel on the Changrettas that could save your arse!”

“Do you know how dangerous it could have been? Fraternizing with the enemy is exactly what got us into trouble with the Changrettas!”

“And fraternizing with them again has given us an advantage. We know how many associates he’s brought with him, and where they are staying. Good God,” Your eyes widen as you see the mutinous look on Tommy’s face. “Are you jealous?”

The silence of the room presses in until it's almost palpable. Finally he rubs a hand over his eyes, looking utterly defeated.

“I have no right to.” He says, pained. “But I am, just the same.”

The admission of his feelings would have made your heart soar a few days ago, before you met a man who enchanted you in the Garrison. You only laugh bitterly.

“What makes this different from all those other times you made me seduce the men you wanted to spy on?”

He says nothing. But what else is there to say? The past is in the past, and so many hurts have been caused by the both of you, it would be impossible to untangle it all.

You soften your voice, laying a hand on Tommy's arm.

“Let me continue seeing him. He wants me, and we can use that. You know it will be help, you know it might save us all.”

A breath flutters in your chest as you wait for his decision. If Tommy allows it, you’ll do it in a heartbeat. The Shelbys are your family, whether you're one in name or not.

But if he refuses, then perhaps… Perhaps he might actually care for you, deeper than jealousy, deeper than he admits.

“Very well.” Tommy says finally, and something in your heart shatters. The corners of your mouth curve up in a wobbly smile.

“Thank you for trusting me, Tommy. I won’t let you down.”

“You would never let me down, no matter what you do. Just…Be careful, Izzy.”

He closes the distance between you and enfolds you in a hug. You enjoy this quiet warmth, as fragile as spider's silk. With a small laugh, you pull away, patting his arm before turning to the door.

You don't look back to see if he follows.

#luca changretta #luca changretta smut #luca changretta x reader #peaky blinders #peaky blinder fanfic #peaky blinder imagine #tommy shelby

567 notes · View notes

urimaginespimp · 4 years ago

Text

Ivy

Alfie Solomons x Shelby Sister Reader where she’s betrothed by Thomas for a truce, now her and Alfie’s secret love affair is in thin line.

A/N: Here I go again, associating an Evermore track to Alfie. Sorry not sorry!

--------

The air was cold at dawn. You’ve been sitting alone in a cemetery since last night, dreading the moment the day was slowly breaking, and how it reminded you of how time of his arrival was getting nearer.

No, you weren’t there to visit a deceased loved one, but might as well have started grieving for yourself. This was the haven where you would often meet Alfie to either stay and talk in each other’s arms, or where he’d fetch you and bring you somewhere you could freely be with each other for a night.

A full year of secret meetups undetected led you both from solely enjoying each other’s company and wits, to being inseparable. Your special spot was a few feet away from the actual gravestones. It was under a huge tree nearby.

You knew from the start that your fondness with each other would never be accepted by your family. And the odds of them actually even coming close to being open on the idea of you both became slimmer every time Alfie would get power in his head and betray your family despite your friendship.

Months would pass of you ignoring his apologies and notes pleading to meet; To be only forgiven when he’s in Thomas’ good graces again. But it became increasingly difficult to be warry of him when you started feeling funny whenever he’d laugh at your jokes, or when he’d offer his coat for both of you to stay under when it starts drizzling and you both forgot to bring an umbrella.

He’s started a goddamn blaze in you.

Now how were you to tell the lone man you’ve ever loved that your brother was planning on marrying you off for a truce?

You only found out last night, leading to you throwing a fit for the very first time towards your brother who tried to calm you down and make you understand the benefit it would bring to the family – much like what he did to John. The way he told you sounded like it was a mere suggestion. But you knew better that he’s already fixed it.

In a fit of tears and frustration from not being able to give him the truth to why you refuse to concede, Polly barging in the study to intervene and ask what was going on was your take to leave and go to your room, shouting loudly that he better leaves you alone that night.

It took you the night trying to write everything down for Alfie. How you were to be married, and begging him not to intervene. Because as much as you love him, you couldn’t risk him and your family being in another war with the still unknown family you were to be part of.

Sneaking out later on, that’s how you found yourself in your favorite spot in the cemetery crying your heart out, and reminiscing all the memories you hold so dear with Alfie.

Taking a deep breath, your hand took the folded page of paper from your coat pocket. You almost crumpled it and wait for Alfie to tell him yourself. But you were a coward and just couldn’t bring yourself to tell him. Not when you know you wouldn’t be able to open your mouth without breaking down.

Taking a rock big enough to hold it in place, you placed your open letter under the tree and willed yourself to walk away from both your favorite place and your happiness that morning.

It’s been days and you have not uttered a word to your family. Still crying yourself to sleep every night, it became increasingly harder not to call Alfie and beg for forgiveness and ask him to take you away.

Alfie himself was sending your office missives after missives, asking you to see him at least. But all of it were left unanswered and kept in one of your desk’s drawers.

Tonight, was the celebration of your engagement and the first time you were to meet the man you were to be married to. You’ve learned from Polly that he was from a wealthy Italian family, about your age, and that he’s already seen you before and was actually the one to ask Thomas for your hand in marriage.

What a puss. You thought, He couldn’t even ask you and get rejected personally.

Well at least the dress he sent was decent. But hell were to freeze over before you would even consider wearing it.

Opening your closet, your hands skimmed through your numerous formal dresses, and finally landed on one that meant so much to you. It was beautiful, fit you perfectly, and it was a gift from Alfie.

They don’t know it’s from him, but you had to admit that wearing it in front of your family and future husband would be a satisfying last act of proclaiming your love for the King of Camden town.

The night began rather peacefully. It seemed that you were the only one miserable in the occasion thrown for you.

The man you were to marry was alright. He was polite, charming even. But he was a shy pup compared to a beast like Alfie. Sooner or later, you had to stop thinking about him.

“What’s the Jew doing here, Tommy?” you heard your aunt ask Tommy discretely.

“I invited him, Poll. All bad blood in the past, he’s a good business partner.” He explained to your aunt.

But the rest of the conversation drowned out for you. He’s here.

For the first time in the entire night of the party, you moved from the corner you were sulking on, looking for the pair of opal eyes you were wishing to see. To hell with the Italian boy.

You were turning on every corner looking for him. If he really were in here, you figured he’d be in a corner somewhere like usual.

“I knew you’d look absolutely beautiful in that dress.” A voice called out just loud enough for you to catch. Snapping to the direction it came from, your eyes met Alfie’s.

He was dressed formally as asked, his beard was trimmed, and he had his hat on.

“Alfie I-“

“I’ll take a dance, yes.” He cut you off, not wanting to make you cry in front of the guests. Taking your hands in his freezing ones, he led you to the dance floor.

“I though you hated dancing in public?” you mused at him, placing your hands by his shoulders, ignoring the lump in your throat.

“If this were to be our last one, everyone else be damned, yeah?” He answered, looking at you lovingly. You smiled. How could he still look at you so endearingly even after your cowardness?

“The wine’s shite by the way.” He commented, trying to make you laugh. He couldn’t stand looking so defeated anymore. You couldn’t resist breaking into a laugh, and bit your tongue from telling him the drinks are courtesy of your future husband.

Polly and Arthur were stood near each other, looking at the both of you dancing, when your aunt finally spoke up.

“She hasn’t cracked a smile ever since the night Thomas told her.” She told the oldest Shelby brother. “And all it took was for Solomons to dance with her.”

“Yeah, looking at ‘em makes me almost forget the bastard tried to kill me. It’s almost as if they’re…” Arthur didn’t get to finish what he was to say from the sudden realization. He knew that look. Yes, he’d never seen you look at anyone like that, but it didn’t take a genius to figure out what it was - the color coming back to your face, almost as if it actually lit up at the presence of Camden town’s king.

Turning to Poll, she was already smirking at him. “She couldn’t tell Thomas the real reason she doesn’t to be married off for business. But you’re the eldest, Arthur, and when it’s on matters of your siblings’ personal happiness, you have to put your foot down.” Patting the back of his shoulder, she took her drink to go who knows.

“Is there somewhere we can talk, luv?” Alfie asked you quietly, sliding his hand on your shoulder, to your hand where he held it.

Looking around you, relief washed over when you saw that the guests were immersed in their own conversations and dance partners.

“Meet me in my room in a few minutes. It’s the third door at the right hall, and I’ll keep it slightly open.” You nervously told him, trying to keep your voice low.

Letting go of him, you acted natural, smiling at guests your way.

--------

In your room, you stood fidgeting with your fingers. The light from the crescent moon that peeked through your window was the only source of light.

What if he got lost and mistakenly entered Tommy’s office? Or that he decided to confront that fiancé of yours?

You were saved from the panic attack rising when your door finally creaked open bigger, and the silhouette of the man you love came in.

But before you could talk, his lips met yours desperately. Alfie hoped that his kiss would be able to tell you how much he’s missed you, how the past days felt like absolute hell, and how it led him to be willing in being a mister for you. A mister.

“Are you sure that brother of yours won’t be looking for ya? What if he found us out, pet?” He asked in between kisses to your neck.

“He’s gonna burn this house to the ground” you answered, gasping when he squeezed you in closer to him. You almost hated having to stop him. “Alfie, we came here to talk.” You weakly pushed him off you.

His eyes under the moonlight was glistening. It was only now that you realized he was crying. Taking his face in your hands, you held it gently, wiping his damp cheek.

“Alfie, I love you, okay? Everything that we had – no matter how it was only stolen moments, I’d live and die just to experience them again. But I can’t risk losing you and or anyone from my family for my personal reasons.” You tried to sound brave in front of him, knowing that the second you’d break, he’d take you with him.

He shook his head. “Now that’s just selfish of that brother of yours, pet. You know I could help settle any problem he has with ‘em Italians. He didn’t have to drag you into this.”

“And what, have him figure out why you’d go through great lengths for his sister whom you never seemed to care about?” Whenever Thomas was in the same room as you, the both of you would only resort to a formal greeting and not even try to converse. That was how you were able to keep it up so long. “It’s either I run or we dare come clean to him and see what we’ll become. He’ll find me either way, or he’ll shoot you dead.”

Alfie moved away from you, and walking by the window to take a breath and calm his nerves.

Suddenly the door to your bedroom was kicked completely open, revealing Arthur and Tommy who looked like they were ready to murder.

You didn’t know what came over you, but you immediately stood straight as if ready to block them before they could get to Alfie. But to your surprise, Arthur stayed standing by the doorway, and it was only Thomas who took a step closer.

“Alfie, you have one chance to tell me that what Arthur's saying isn’t true.” Tommy was seething, ordering him. “You of all people know my sisters are off limits.”

“It’s true, Tom.” You answered before Alfie could even open his mouth. If he were to push through marrying you off, at least leave him with the guilt for snatching your life away. “I love him.” Relief from finally being able to say it in front of your brothers washed over you.

“I am not gonna let you use my sister for whatever scheme it is that you fu-

“I was gonna ask her to marry me, you fucker!” Alfie growled from behind you, before finally reaching your side. You stood there gaping at him, having been clueless as well of his intentions.

“I went to meet her in our spot with a fucking ring in my hand, right. And what do I find? A letter from her telling me that some scum wants what’s only mine, and her cunt of a brother is allowing it!”

Arthur having been satisfied from what Alfie said, was smiling at you across the room. “And as the eldest of the family, I give you my blessing, so long as you promise to protect her.” He spoke, nodding at him. You wanted to run into your brother’s arms in gratitude, but Thomas spoke up again.

“Don’t celebrate yet, Alfie." He both looked at you with a stern expression. "There are Italians out there still thinking that there’s a marriage happening in a fortnight.”

Alfie scoffed at your brother’s statement. As if he hasn’t dealt with them before.

Taking your hand in his, he turned to your brother once more. “And what is expected to happen when I call off the marriage?” He asked him.

“I’m gonna start a war” you answered nervously.

Squeezing your hand, he turned to you. “Then it's gonna be the goddamn fight of my life, pet.”

507 notes · View notes

the-romantic-lady · 3 years ago

Note

Hey! I just want to drop by and ask if you're doing okay! I saw your recent reblog/response about colonialism and I can't help but wonder how you're doing. You handled it very well by the way. Way better than I would have if I was in that situation.

Also, thank you for mentioning the atrocities that Japan inflicted. Unfortunately, many countries were affected including mine. It seems like people forget about it but then again, just reading about what they have done, makes me want to forget about it as well. It's so unimaginable. Due to what was happening back then, women had to dress up as boys, be married off to someone, or hide. I don't hate Japan but we need to learn about history so that it doesn't repeat itself.

A bit off-topic but I find it funny that a lot of people assume that the people in our small community are Caucasian when a lot of us especially the more "well-known" blogs in this community are POC and sometimes even Muslim. I hate it when people conclude that everybody with a certain type of belief or opinion is categorized in the same box. By the way, this is coming from somebody who hates when Westerners try to enforce their ideologies on us or when my people try to seek Western validation. Just because I think this way doesn't mean all my other opinions are what other people think they might be.

Hi!! Thank you for your kind words 😃. In the reply, she had the nerve to say that European atrocities have left the biggest repercussions and that is just so ignorant. I am sorry to hear that Japanese atrocities had a bad effect on your people but it just goes to show how dark humans can be. It's interesting how we forget that the reason H*tler was able to mass murder the jews was because he blamed all Germany's problems on them. Literally, it was that easy to convince normal people to end an entire race. Same with his Native Americans were treated. Their "barbaric" ways had to be corrected by civilized white men and so genocide happened. And the same things are happening all across the globe.

I personally find it astonishing that we haven't changed at all in that. We still put certain groups on a pedestal and villainize others. Its hard to see now but this is exactly what the Nazis did. Back then, people didn't know what it would turn out to be. But the start is always a mental classification of the "other" as inherently evil. This is what is being done to Europeans. And just the bitterness when you read their posts is baffling. History should be a way to examine human nature and study it. Not to pick sides and put those judgements on modern living people. The latter has been done many times and always resulted in disaster.

Thank you checking 😘. I did pick the fight but lets just say that I hit my limit with these anti European posts. But I am pretty used to this since my dad himself accuses me of the "slave" mentality because I refuse to blame Europeans for all the evil in the world. Crazy world we live in.

Also, can I just add that I too used to be this narrow minded and bitter? My dad is really into Pakistani history and politics and during car rides to and from school, he would lecture us all. It developed my person thoughts to be the same as him. And I actually credit one of my uni professors for totally changing my thoughts. It was a class in European history but the way he taught it completely changed my views on everything. I might look for one of the papers I wrote for the class later and post it. It was a splendid class. He introduced me to the book The Killing Compartments: The Mentality of Mass Murder by Abram de Swaan and it is a game changer. I would highly recommend everyone to read it. Its not a long read but a great one.

Anyway, I am glad to see that I had much support. I love my followers who are seriously some of the most open minded people I know. After all, my views in the world would not be so welcome lol.

#love you 😚#you always make me feel good

28 notes · View notes

edenfenixblogs · 1 year ago

Text

I am Jewish by birth. I am VERY Jewish, although reform. I went to Sunday school from preschool to 2nd grade. I went to a Jewish day school from grades 3 to 8. My rabbi was my principal, and came from a line of 35 rabbis. I was bat mitzvah-ed. My rabbi’s daughter was/is one of my best friends and is now also a rabbi and one I call whenever I need rabbinical insight. In high school I continued after school Judaic studies at something called Hebrew High and continued to take Hebrew throughout college.

And let me tell you:

You are as much a Jew as me in every way. The resilience of my ancestors is something they passed down to me through community and culture, not genetics. We aren’t resilient because we have some special DNA.

We are resilient, because we love each other. We are resilient because, over the course of 2000+ years, we saw enough value in each other and the culture we share to preserve it. We are resilient because our focus is not on personal enrichment or reward or punishment. Rather, our focus is on Tikkun Olam. And we do that by blooming where we are planted for as long as we can, while never forgetting how much we love each other. By keeping the prayers and the rituals. So that if ever another Jew is blown from where they started taking root and they find themselves near us, they can look for a mezuzah on a door or a menorah in a window or the familiar name of a synagogue in Hebrew or listen for someone wishing another person Shabbat Shalom. And they will know they’re home. That’s all being Jewish is. It’s just taking care of the world and each other.

And, unfortunately, our insistence on doing this—on being lighthouses for one another—makes us stand out. Because it works. It makes us difficult to kill. A lot of us are very scared right now that we have nowhere to go. And in an immediate sense that may be true. But culturally and spiritually, we do have somewhere to go. As long as one of us can find another of us, we will have somewhere to go.

The fact that we CANNOT turn away. That we CANNOT stop thinking about all of this, no matter how far away or nearby it’s happening and no matter how many people we do or do not know personally, our inability to look away from it is what makes us who we are.

I’m sorry that you having chosen this means you have to deal with this, but you having chosen this doesn’t make your experience of any of this less valid. It doesn’t even make it different than mine. Your ancestors may not be my ancestors, but you are still my mishpocha. 💜

Okay something I haven't really had the words for so far is to describe the surreal weirdness of interacting with Current Events™️ as a ger.

Partially this has been me trying not to make this about my feelings, and partially this is a lack of ability to articulate the feelings anyway. But I'm gonna try because I think others might be in the same boat.

So one of the interesting things about being a Jew by Choice is that a number of us don't have any prior connections to Judaism. We are not culturally Jewish when we start, we do not have Jewish family or ancestry, and we are not joining a Jewish family through marriage. We just.... felt drawn. Called, if you will. A lot of us in that boat are seekers, moved by some moment of truth or divine connection.

At any rate, that leaves us in a weird position when it comes to Jewish cultural trauma, both new and old. We don’t carry the ancestral trauma of knowing we have lost literal family to atrocities, but we accept that may be our future. We don’t have the literal trauma, but the collective grief and community trauma seeps into your bones very quickly, the more you identify with the Jewish people. We don’t have the literal trauma, but we then worry about whether we also lack the resilience that has sustained Jews by birth throughout history.

"We are made of strong stuff! Your ancestors passed on their strength!" An excellent and true statement for many, but what if our specific ancestors did not? Worse: what if they were on the other side of the equation?

We are also confronting, for the first time, the reality of seeing how few people care about Jews outside of other Jews. For many born Jews, that makes this a time to consolidate into family, to hunker down. For gerim, we find strength in community but many of us have family that do not and cannot understand (and honestly many of us are praying our families don't understand it for any number of reasons.)

So we are processing this for the first time as adults, outside of a Jewish family. And it's surreal and weird and hard and alienating and you feel both like you are inside and outside of the community. You are profoundly affected, but do you have any right to complain? You chose this. You knew what was coming, probably. This kind of antisemitism? Brutally predictable, if you know Jewish history. You have survivors' guilt and secondhand trauma, but other people have it far worse, far more personal, and so it feels like there's no appropriate space to discuss that. You want to speak up and also, you don't want to draw attention to yourself. You want people to see you. You want to hide. This is the only thing anyone in your community can focus on, and you are struggling the same way. The other people in your life are saying it's been two months and you need to snap out of this. This doesn't hurt you directly. But it does. It does. Because no matter how isolated you feel, you cannot separate yourself from your people.

Idk it's a lot. But I'm fine. I'm fine, of course.

#Judaism son #המצב #the jewish experience #the jews are tired #don't engage with this if you can't be kind #shalom chaver/a #(idk how to do gender neutral friend in Hebrew sorry)#you’re stronger than you know

311 notes · View notes

darkdevasofdestruction · 4 years ago

Text

Don’t Let Go ~ Alfie Solomons

I’m in love with one man and one man alone. Mum and dad love Alfie too, but they still can’t take him away from me ;;;

How did she end up like this, she wondered? They were family...Even though her last name was not legally “Shelby”, she was still a part of the family since she was born. The parents were best friends, and when her parents died, Polly took her in. And then, they grew up together - Same home, same beds, same food, same clothes...Same everything.

And then, war came, and while true, she was younger than even John - Not by much, only about 3 years - But that didn’t seem to bother either of the Shelby siblings, and she was especially close with Arthur and Ada, mostly because they were the ones with the warmest hearts, and could understand her gentle one as well..

However, Tommy was the smartest of the family, and Polly taught her enough about Gypsy street-smarts, so the three of them together somehow became the true heads of the family, the true backbone that kept everyone straight and together.

When war came, she was barely 16, and yet, she joined them, dressing as a man and pretending to be a volunteer physician, healing and running around the battlefield, only to end up helping them dig up tunnels and plant explosions...

And taking a bullet for Tommy.

And nearly dying.

But at least, by the time they returned home, 4 years later, she was called an honorary Shelby and Polly officially adopted her.

She wasn’t Y/N L/N anymore, she was Y/N Shelby, and she was damn proud of that.

She helped with fixing races, rode around with her gorgeous black mare, going to the Garrison with her brothers to make sure they don’t end up drunk, in a ditch, she helped the strategy against the Lee family, got beaten up by Sabini, beat him up right back, got in that whorehouse of a Russian noble family, let the Duchess touch her while in her underwear, got beaten up by the priest, had to blow up a train with good people and many more...

But nothing was bringing her down, because she was a Shelby, and she was strong - Mentally, Physically, Emotionally - And she wanted to make sure the family was together, or at least trying to hang on, somehow.

She was the perfect woman - Never drank, never smoked, never cursed, never did drugs, never did drugs, never dated anyone...

But when one day, Thomas took her on a meeting at Alfie’s place... Boy of boy, was that entertaining.

She always appreciated Thomas’s ambition, cunning and intelligence...But Alfie? Alfie was something else. Something much above him, no much smarter, so much better at scheming...And at everything, really. And she was attracted by him like moths to the light.

Back and forth talks, interesting insights on life, learning words in foreign languages that she didn’t know, but he did, and likewise, teaching her foreign stuff, talking to him about books and many other things...

And it was weird, but it almost seemed like she didn’t want to leave that place any time soon, but Thomas needed her for business, so what could she do, really?

And she agreed...And agreed...And agreed...

Until one day, when all things went completely upside down and...Sure, she did her job, and she was supposed to return to Alfie’s to have a chat with him and Tommy... And she did...

As soon as she stepped inside the “Bakery”, she saw Ollie, whose eyes widened in shock seeing her in that state.

“Miss Shelby, what happened?! Let me call the physician-...I’ll go inform Alfie-...” Ollie stumbled over his words, only to have her grab his sleeve and pull him back. “Don’t tell them I’m here. With the way I look, better make it a surprise. Tommy’s here, right?” she asked, slamming the doors open, walking inside, the clicks of her small heeled boots resounding all over the place. “B-But Miss Shelby, we have to treat you - “ Y/N simply shot him a glare, before continuing in a straight line. “Ain’t a Shelby anymore.” she muttered, and soon, she reached the middle of the wide business room, as Alfie was sitting at his desk and Tommy was pacing. “Y/N...Finally, you’ve arrived. What happened to you?!” Thomas asked, rushing to her side, only for her to push him away. “You lied to me, Thomas. You lied to me. You promised I wouldn’t get hurt. That you were gonna make sure they wouldn’t touch me. That I was gonna come back perfectly unharmed, not even a strand of hair touched. Only business talks. How do you think that went?” the girl looked down, her hands deep in her bloodied, yet incredibly fancy and silhouette-fitting high-waisted pants. “What exactly happened with the Sabini meeting, Y/N? And why are you covered in blood?!” he asked, frowning. “It’s fine, not ALL of it is MY blood, thanks for worrying, THOMAS!” but as she rasped out his name, she started coughing up some blood, and as her side started burning in pain, she lifted her already disheveled shirt, applying pressure with her hand where she got shot to keep herself from bleeding out. “Well...This one is.” she used her sleeve to wipe her face, completely non-chalant. “Y/N...Tell me what happened...Please...” Thomas’s voice went lower, almost as a soothing whisper, but it was quickly obliterated by Y/N’s exaggerated, yet pained laugh. “I got beaten up, raped and shot by Sabini and his men. That’s what happened, Thomas. No business talk, just abuse. You promised nothing will happen to me...But, oh, damn, remember that you told Lizzie the same too, and she, that fucker raped her at the Derby too, when you were too busy fucking around with two other women? Oh, wait...Is it because I’m a woman? Because, the way I see it, all women that you have in your life get abused somehow...By you. Grace died because of you. Ada left the city because of you. May got hurt because of you. Esme hates you...There’s also the Duchess, but she very much outsmarted you, so she’s safe and...Still a noble woman. And don’t even get me started on Polly...Poor woman...Having to endure living in the same world as you. For the amount of time you spend fucking women, one would think you’d be more considerate of them.” her beautiful eyes were sharp and hateful, throwing daggers at the man in front of her as she continued to pace around, her tongue speaking the poison that very much tainted her heart over the past many years of her life. “...Y/N. I know you’re in pain, and that I’ve hurt you. I know. You are right, I agree. I’m aware. But it wasn’t my fault. I couldn’t have known, and-” as he continued, the girl calmly approached him, and as soon as she was right in front of him, she back-slapped him, thanking her classy mind for wearing lots of rings that day. As she laughed at the way the wounds showed up on one side of his face, she followed by slapping him on the other side, much harder than before. “Shut the fuck up, Thomas Shelby. Don’t speak to me. Don’t get close to me. I am not a Shelby anymore, so you can fuck off...Do you see who you’re doing business with, Alfie? A guy who can’t even protect his family! He got all of us arrested and almost hanged, made Ada go away, made Polly go insane, had Arthur beaten up, me as well, and guess what, Michael got shot and JOHN GOT KILLED! BECAUSE OF YOU, THOMAS! Grace died because of YOU! And your child got kidnapped and almost died BECAUSE! OF! YOU!” with each sentence, she punched him, hit him, kicked him, smashed him head with her knee, then on the wall, then ended by stomping her boot on his stomach...And walked away, as calmly as if never happened. “And...This is not my blood.” “Well, lass, gotta say, yeah, you ain’t as much of an angel as I thought, eh. Or, maybe now more than ever, you’re the angel I thought you were.” Alfie watched from behind the desk, completely relaxed, analysing the show in front of him, and yet, his brain was running a thousand miles per second, thinking of millions of things. “D’you have a free spot here, Alfie? No guns and death and all that. Maybe...Someone to patch up your boys. I don’t know. Hell, I’ll even accept being your secretary or...Flower girl. Cook. Tea girl. I can walk Cyril...I don’t know, anything you want, just get me the hell out of this Shelby hell.” she turned around to look at him, using her other sleeve to clean her face, using the water from her tears. “Heard that, Thomas Shelby? Your sister’s deserted you, and for a good reason, eh. You can leave now, there’s other times to do business, right.” Alfie spoke, getting up and stepping towards her. “This isn’t over, Y/N. We’ll talk again. You’re a valuable part of the family, and you’re coming back, sooner than later.” Thomas went get get out of the building, only for the girl to quickly take out the gun from her jacket and cock it, pointing it at the man. “Fuck off and go to hell, Thomas.” she pulled the trigger... “Stop it, lass, don’t do it! You’re gonna regret it!” Alfie sprung out, holding one of his arms around her body, while his other hand went to her gun, making her shoot a wall instead of a living being, letting the man get out of there, still alive, somehow. “Damn it, Alfie! Why’d you do that! It’s 2 for 0, damn it! I’m fed up with taking bullets to save that guy, while all he does is sit comfortably behind his desk, damn it! I’m not a fucking rag doll that can be tossed in the trash!” she cried, trying to struggle out of his grasp, but the wounds were hurting her too much, so her strength gave out faster and she stood limp in his arms, trembling softly. “S’okay now, lass, yeah. I’ll bring ya to Cyril and we can...Uh...Drink that tea you like, right. Forget that guy, let’s get ya treated, right. Get that bullet out of ya. And sure, y’can be my physician, I know you were a great one in war, yeah.” the Jew gently took out the gun from her hand, throwing it to the ground for Ollie to take later, an he picked her up with much, bringing her to the medic’s room. “I need vodka, cigarettes, and if I’m brave enough some Tokyo...Snow...Whatever you call it.” she groaned as soon as she was place on the bed, as the gangster frowned in confusion at her. “I thought you didn’t do vices.” he sat on the opposite bed, watching her intently. “Woaw, I lied to you and everyone else in the world. I do drink and I do smoke and I did date before...Just...Not when people were seeing me. People think you’re an angel, they will hopefully leave you the hell alone. Difficult being a woman these days, as you can see. Everybody’s treating you like a piece of garbage. And bring me that vodka, I need to have the room spinning before I take out the bullet...And vodka’s the best disinfectant. The hospital stuff is washed up and diluted a lot of times.” she gave him a sarcastic half-smile, taking the cigarette he just lit up and puffed on it. “Only whiskey and rum, if you want, yeah. You don’t have to pretend to be someone you’re not around here, lass. Just do what you want, nobody’s gonna say a thing, right, and if they do, you know how to use a gun, so shoot their brains, eh, show them all who’s in charge.” he got up, bringing her what she requested, watching attentively as she let her head back, poofing smoke into the air. “Thanks, Alfie. Come back in an hour. I don’t need witnesses of my misery. You know better than everyone, Captain Solomons, that taking out a bullet gets messy.” she pointed the cigarette at him, smirking miserably at him, knowing very well that she wasn’t mentally ready for the procedure. “Well, lass, if you’re very sure, you don’t need help, right, then I’ll be waiting outside.” the Jew patted her head, leaving the room, letting behind only a graveyard silence, that for some reason, creeped the girl out big time. “...Let’s fuck shit up, then...” she muttered to herself, letting the ashes of the cigarette fall pitifully on the bed, as she took a deep breath and violently slammed her hand over the medical tools.

She’s always been a very careful and precise person, and whenever she did this on someone else, she would have people keep the victim down, so she could rummage through their bodies with relative ease, especially after they got shit faced drunk...And maybe with some anaesthesis... But this is the worst. Just like back then, during the war...

Letting a few tears of anticipation fall down her face, she cut a bit deeper into her body, to allow her fingers, previously washed with alcohol, she whimpered and squealed as she searched around for the bullet - It was no easy feat for, but it had to be done, no matter the searing pain -.

It felt like time stopped completely before the extraction of the stupid lead thing, she held it in her hand, watching its taunting gleam glaring back into her eyes, then watched with horror that stupid bottle of whiskey, and with her last strength, she snatched it and putting her pillow over her face to keep the shrieking from leaving the room, and gritting her teeth, she let the alcohol pour out from the bottle, wailing loudly, and yet, hoping nobody would hear her.

She was still sobbing in the pillow, the fire-like pain, electrifying the surging, diffuse pain throughout her whole torso, and she laid there, throwing away that pillow as soon as the door was opened again, and adjusting her head, she noticed Solomons walking in the room, a basket dangling from his arms.

“What’cha got there?” she asked in a weak, whisper-like voice, still trying to recover. “Goodies. Freshly baked cookies. At least something that smells nice in this pigstry, eh.” Alfie’s joking way of speaking seemed to take away her mind, but she smiled apologetically, lifting her hands briefly. “Sorry, too much blood on my hands. Literally and metaphorically speaking.” she explained, only to have Alfie take out one of the cookies and feeding her. “...This...Is the best thing I’ve eaten in my life. Did you make them? Because if you did, you’re like...A Cookie God. Have more?” she asked, managing, with a lot of difficulty, pain and his help, to get in a sitting position. “Well, I’ve never been called a God, right, but it ain’t that bad, yeah. Here you go, one more. I’ll ask a maid to draw a bath for you, yeah, I doubt you wanna stay all bloody the whole day, eh.” he helped her eat another cookie, and weirdly enough, despite all the blood on her face, her small smile was oddly charming. “...Y’know...If you ever want to retire from this gangster bullshit...You could settle down and...Just bake for a living...No, rather, a hobby. I’m sure you have enough money for a life time, so might as well just rest and take it easy. Move away from here...Maybe another country...Or another city, at least...And just...Y’know...Be happy. You could do that...And be rid of stupid Italians and Americans and all these jerks.” Y/N spoke, more or less not directly to him, but in a way, she was projecting her own hopes and dreams. “Margate.” Alfie muttered, sitting down in front of her. “Margate?” she furrowed her brows in confusion, leaning forward a bit. “Aye. By the seaside. The sand is really soft, they say, and the waves are nice, yeah. Very calm town.” he continued, which made her gasp softly in realisation. “You...You DID think about retirement! It means you’re really kinda fed up with this...This mess. I like where this is going.” she smiled softly at him, nodding in agreement. “I think you’re making the right choice, if it makes for anything.” “Y’know, lass, you’re not wrong. We do need a vacation, yeah, and a very long one at that, right. Now, how ‘bout we talk about what you need, right, for this medical thing. You’re a sensible woman, yeah, so, I trust you more with the details and organising.” he pointed, and thus, they started chatting idly about the medical issues, and even more, about life in general - Books, the pictures, concerts, travelling and things...Leisure things, just simple things that she never had the privilege to talk about, and she had no idea she wanted, nor needed.

Many weeks passed and things were unusually calm for her, and for the first time in her life, she felt...Happy. She enjoyed being around Alfie, working with him without being involved in all the killing, and she absolutely loved baking things together, and he was so charismatic and charming, always giving witty remarks that amused her and made her laugh...

It was the perfect life she always dreamt of having, and he even asked if she wanted to go to a jazz pub with him, and...She got to dress up, and do her make up and do her hair, wear pretty, expensive jewellery, and a damn fine dress to show off her gorgeous silhouette, and high heels to match...And she walked next to him, her arm hooked to his, as they enjoyed the beautiful jazz music and each other’s presence.

It was a blissful dream, and she swore that if anyone dared wake her up, she was gonna kill them, and it won’t be quick, nor painless.

“Y’know, Alfie...You’re the best man I’ve ever met in my life. And that says a lot, considering how many men I had the misfortune of meeting...Including my family.” she raised her champagne glass slightly to clink with his. “Maybe you haven’t met the right men, dear, yeah, y’know, and men in Birmingham are fucking shit anyway. Camden’s better, yeah.” the man chuckled mirthfully, leaning back on his chair. “You...Mentioned Margate once. How are things going on with that?” Y/N asked, smiling at him softly. “Well, lass, y’know, yeah, things are...Things are fine. But, uh...You see...The doctor said I’m sick. They aren’t really sure yet what’s wrong with me, alright, but they said the results should be given pretty soon, yeah.” he admitted after a few seconds of consideration, which made the girl gasp in shock, moving her chair to look at him better taking his hands in hers and leaning forward. “What did they say about it? Did they take blood sampled? Wanna do blood work? Or...Biochemistry tests? Or something more complex?” Y/N bit her lip, looking concerned like never before. “Don’t worry, lass, even if I die, yeah, I’ll still make sure you get paid for your hard work, alright?” the man tried to brush it off, but the indignant look on her face made him chuckle. “I’m gonna kill you if you imply something like that again. I don’t need your money, I just want you to be healthy and alright, got it? Now come on, tell me, what do they suspect. Also, where is your doctor’s clinic, and when will your results arrive.” she pressed on, waiting for an answer. “Come on, don’t be so serious, yeah, enjoy the show, it’s not every night we get to have fun, right?” Alfie, again, tried to play it off as nothing important, but the look on her face made him sigh and nod, giving in. “They think’s cancer, right. I got a tumour, they’re checking if it’s...Uh...Cancer or not. right. Doctor’s around here in Camden, results come out sometime in a week or two, that enough?” he rolled his eyes, and yet, he was grateful for her worrying. “...I guess. If I knew, I would have done the lab work myself, but, you know...If anything, I can do the procedure myself... Or maybe I should hold your hand and make sure you’re not scared. They have to do general anaesthesia, cut you open and all that...It won’t be fun.” she looked down a bit, before smiling encouragingly at him. “Y/N. I’m a big boy now, right, I’ll be fine, no need to worry about me, yeah, you just...You be okay, and relax, and-...And before long, we’ll go to Margate together.” he continued, trying to calm her down, without realising at first of the commitment, until he noticed the excited gleam in her eyes. “Alfie...? Are you...Are you sure...? Margate is the place you want to go to...Why would you...Me...?” she muttered, almost unsure of how to react. “Let’s go home, eh. I want to make you some nice tea, yeah, and some cookies. I have to tell ya something, and I’d rather it not be out.”

Alfie squeezed her hands, helping her get up, and the walk home was filled with anticipation and a comfortable silence that wanted to rip out the answers out of his throat.

He let her dress in more comfortable clothes, and so he did, then went down to prepare some nice and warm tea, with the biscuits he baked that day, and went to her room.

“Do you like me, Alfie?” she asked in a shushed voice, not daring to raise her head to look at him. “What’s not to like, lass? You’re smart and witty, and for some reason, you find me funny, and look at ya, you’re gorgeous, right. So if I say, yeah, I want you to come to Margate with me, I mean it. You just have to agree, aye. Get away from this and rest. God knows we need this.” he had a sweet smile on his face - A smile that quickly faltered when he saw stray tears falling down her face, and he started worrying. “Why...In the world...Would someone as amazing as you...Like me? Alfie, you’re...You’re amazing, and me, I’m...I’m the worst. I can’t let go of the past, and I’ve got like...This...This devil inside me...This Shelby devil that keeps whispering in my ear, saying that I’ll never be happy, and that I’ll...I’ll kill again, and I’ll be dragged back to that slum and...And all that happiness will just shatter and...And I don’t deserve you.” she looked down, hoping her long her would hide her face, but next thing she knows, she got brought into a tight embrace, and he stroked her hair, his chin on top of her head, waiting for her to calm down, and yet, he could feel her trembling softly. “Don’t say things like that, yeah, that’s not true. You’re with me, not with them anymore, right, so, then, you’re going back. I won’t let them take you back, if you don’t want to, aye. No need to cry, right, I’ll protect you from anyone who dares try to take you away, eh, even if it’s Tommy Shelby himself, so no need to cry, yeah, Y/N?” he spoke, only to feel her cling even tighter to the back of his shirt. “I...I’ve...I’ve never felt like this before, Alfie. You make me feel so warm...And safe...And happy...I’ve been hold before, but all I felt was repulsion and fright...I was panicked and I wanted to run away...But this...This never happened. And I think I love you, Alfie. Don’t let go of me, please.” her voice was barely audible, but Alfie could feel the raw emotions, so he laid down with her on the bed, holding her dearly. “It will be fine, Y/N, okay. None of these worries will come to you again when in Margate. You and I will be happy, away from here, yeah, so, know that I love you, and let’s wait just a bit more, so we can get rid of this Changretta mess, and we’re leaving, eh.”

And it was true - From that night on, they slept in the same room, holding each other dearly, reassured that the next day, things will still be as good as the previous night. One morning, however, Alfie woke up without her in his arms, and he panicked, thinking the worst - Poor Ollie thought he was going to get killed - But it was all fine, as she returned with the biggest grin on her face, jumping in Alfie’s arms, not allowing him the chance to say a word, only shocking him. And she held his hands and dragged him to his room, getting him to sit on the bed, and at first, she wanted to make tea, but then she shook her head and brought a bottle of the best whiskey, poured it in the glasses and had him drink.

“Damn it, lassie, don’t fucking scare me like that, yeah, like, at least tell me in advance if you’re gonna leave, okay, I thought those fuckers got ya for good. What the hell was the urgency?” he asked, drinking the glass in one go before looking at her. “I...Well...Haha, sorry ‘bout that, I’m just...I’m sure super happy. So, as you know, today the doctors had to mail you the test results, so, you know, I seem to have been a bit too eager to find out, so I since there were no trains, I walked all the way to your doctor, told him this and that, then got the first train back, and here I am. Oh, and, obviously, I’m super happy ‘cause like, I couldn’t keep myself - Sorry ‘bout that, by the way - So I ripped the envelope and looked at the results. And, uh, yeah, so, I’m happy ‘cause - Look ! - No cancer! You’re completely, 100% cancer free! And, like, the tumor completely benign, no invasiveness, no metastasis, so this is completely curable by surgical removal, and it won’t affect your life span, nor will it, in any way, alter your health. Et, voila, here we are! Go on, drink, cheer, be happy, I know I am!” she laughed gleefully, watching the shocked spark in Alfie’s eyes as he took out his glasses to read over the annoyingly complicated medical stuff, but he was a smart guy, and he understood everything there is to it. “You’re the best, shiksa. You say things are gonna turn out bad, but here, look, they aren’t, and hey won’t right, ‘cause clearly, there’s something up there, alright, that’s looking out for us, and it ain’t only me making sure you’re fine. I’m happy, Y/N, and in less than a month, aye, we’re fucking away from here. Just the two of us...And Ollie as a butler, if ya want. And we can get as many dogs as you want. We can do whatever we want, really.” he hugged her tightly, cupping her face and kissing her tenderly.

It all went sweet and soft at first, and it got hotter and hotter, with much more passion than before, and one thing led to another, and their first night of overflowing love gave hope for a better future, one that will ensure their happiness and that won’t involve them in this stupid gangster war anymore.

Just him, her and Cyril, maybe Ollie too, at the side...What better life to have than this?

But just one week before they had to leave, as they were still preparing for their grand exit, Y/N was walking towards the clinic room to check on the few patients she had left, only to notice the glint of guns, and she did a turn around, looking for Alfie, and yet, Ollie stopped her in her tracks as soon as she saw her, rushing to hide her from the people who were, apparently, having a meeting with Alfie.

“Ollie, it’s an emergency. Life or death, I promise. I NEED to speak to him. Who is he having a meeting with?” she asked, holding her clipboard close to her chest, looking left and right carefully. “With the Sabinis. Now, come on, Y/N, whatever it is, can wait. I’m sure you can wait a bit with Cyril. Please.” Ollie pleaded with her, but she only started writing rapidly on her clipboard, letting the first two pages filled with obvious, typewriter-written pages about standard medical procedures. “I’m sorry, Ollie, but this is bigger than even Sabini. Come with me and NEVER leave Alfie alone with those sharks, got it?” she gave him a sharp look before rushing to the usual place Alfie had business meetings, and as she completely ignored the villains, she slammed the clipboard on his desk, giving him a look. “Very important medical business thing, I need your signature after you read through these.” as he was so much taller than her, she only needed to bend a bit to talk into his ear, carefully flipping the first two pages, only to reveal big, messy writing.

ENEMIES WITH GUNS IN THE MEDICAL WARD POINTED TO THE BOYS DON’T TRUST THEM

Alfie gave her a look, knowing shit went bad, he nodded slightly, getting a pen and, as his signature, he wrote “TELL OLLIE”, and ushered her to leave. And so she did, and Ollie went to alert the other guys so they could ambush the enemies in the medical ward, all while cursing herself and preparing guns, hidden in her long trench coat, then returned to stay by Alfie’s side, her hands placed on his shoulders reassuringly.

“Mr. Solomons, I see the little song bird likes flying around to every powerful gangster family. Wonder if she’ll go to the Changrettas when she’s done with you.” the Sabini leader smirked at her, and Alfie could feel her nails digging into his flesh, and not even the good way this time. “Listen, listen, Mr. Sabini,eh. You come here, begging me for fucking favours, right, and then, you dare fucking speak ill of my partner, yeah? So, where is the fucking time where you, like, do something to make me want to do that fucking favour of yours, if the only fucking thing you make me want to do is to fucking grant you the favour of putting you out of this miserable fucking life, right?” there was no clearer indicator that Alfie was angry than when he cursed like his beard was on fire, and true, YN found it very weird, considering how sweet and gentle he’s always been with her, but she could feel the protective aura he gave off, and she never felt safer than now. “Aye, aye, Alfie, don’t overreact, please, it was just a merely innocent joke! Lighten up, let’s discuss business. We teamed up with Luca Changretta, we can give you money and exposure. We can sell your rum and weapons all over Europe, especially France and Italy, and that means, in the long run, a ton of money. I’m sure you’ll agree with me, won’t you?” Sabini spoke, and from the corner of her eye, she could see one of the men taking out a gun from the back of his pants. “Mr. Sabini, I will have to ask you, as Mr. Solomons’s secretary, not to take out any weapons, otherwise our men will shoot all of you, with no discrimination.” Y/N threatened in a low voice, taking her hands from Alfie’s shoulders, and crossed her arms to her chest, ready to draw her weapons at any second. “It’s alright, Y/N, right, I don’t think Mr. Sabini is fucking stupid enough to dare a shoot out in my own fucking warehouse, eh.” Alfie warned the Italian gangster, snapping his fingers for Ollie to come by. “Vaffanculo...Che stronza! No, fine, fine, we’re all calm, all good, right? We can have a business deal and leave this place happy, both parts, right?” Sabini spoke, using his hands to gesture everyone to calm down. “Stick that deal up your ass.” Alfie cursed Sabini in perfect Italian, making Sabini straighten up, almost as if he got sobered by a hammer to his head, and without a second to wait, some of the lackeys drew their guns.

But they were too late, for Y/N already had both guns out and killed most of them, starting with Sabini himself, and Ollie’s boys helped up just enough to have the Red Sea at their feet.

Once all the enemies were laying dead on the cold, wet ground, Y/N sighed, throwing the guns to the ground, sighing and staring at the carnage with the eyes of a dead fish.

Alfie nodded to himself, pissed off at the mess that just had to happen, a week before they were going to sail to a better place, without either of them having to bloody their hands anymore, just like now.

“Well, Ollie’s got them all, so we’re good now. The sooner we finish the preparations, the better. Let’s hope Changretta the Bitch gets blown up...I should go check on Cyril, I’m sure he got scared by the gunshots.” Y/N sighed, patting him on the shoulder before turning on her heels to leave, and yet, Alfie motioned to Ollie to clear the mess, and then followed her back to their room, watching her cuddle with the beautiful dog. “Are you alright, Y/N?” Alfie asked, sitting on the edge of the bed, his hand reaching to stroke her hair, only for Cyril to reach to get his head pet instead. “Aw, Cyril...You’re the cutest baby ever. And...I will be, Alfie. I will be. Soon...Once we leave, I will be. Until then, I’m happy spending my time with you and Cyril. It relaxes me...And it makes me happy. WE are happy.” she reached out her hand, holding his, intertwining their fingers together and leading him to lay on his side, with the dog between them, like they were a family. “Well, darling, it’s just a few days longer, and we’re out of here, right. And we’ll be a family, like you want, and by the shore, there’re no more gunshots, right, so, we can learn how to swim, and we can mess with this slobbery bastard, and I can teach you how to bake other things. I heard the waves and the salty air help you sleep better. Ain’t that just fucking perfect, eh?” Alfie gave her a sweet smile, and laid there, with her, relaxing. “Sounds amazing, Alfie. I can’t wait for Margate, then. Just you, and me, and Cyril...And maybe Ollie too, y’know, that guy makes the best tea, ain’t gonna lie.” she giggled, squeezing his hand lovingly. “Aye, it’s gonna be great. And, we can travel wherever you want, whenever you want. Any country, any city, any date. You pick, we go. Sounds good?” Alfie asked, smiling tenderly at her excitement, happy that she wasn’t stuck on the previous blood bath. “Yeah, it sounds perfect. As long as we’re together, everything is better.”

#alfie solomons #alfie solomons x reader #alfie solomons imagine #peaky blinders x reader #peaky blinder imagine #peaky blinders #thomas shelby #arthur shelby #john shelby #ada shelby #polly shelby #elizabeth gray #michael gray #finn shelby

165 notes · View notes

nickyhemmick · 4 years ago

Note

Hi, be careful what information you post on the conflict as it’s not as one sided as you’re making it out to be. Israel is being attacked as well. I’m not saying everything Israel is doing is correct, by no means is that true. But innocent people are getting hurt on both sides and that’s not okay. A lot of the posts I’ve seen have just been thinly valid antisemitism, so be careful the ones you reblog as well. You can be anti Israel without being vitriolic to the innocent people who live there. Palestine is not as innocent as everyone claims they are, but they don’t deserve to be kicked out of there homes either. Israel is complicated but innocents don’t deserve to be killed either. A lot of people post about Palestine blindly, I just encourage you to look into both sides a bit more and not make it out to be a situation with one right answer. If it was then this problem would have been solved a long time ago.

~ A Very Stressed American Jew

blah blah blah both sides blah blah blah Palestine isn’t innocent blah blah.

For the stuff about anti-semitism: yeah I agree. People can be posting things that are anti Semitic while pretending to be anti-Israel. I’ve reblogged stuff abt that fact, too. And I always try to make sure what I’m reblogging is talking abt Israel’s cruelty and doesn’t mention anything anti-Semitic. If you see something that I’ve reblogged and you feel it’s anti-Semitic, then let me know.

Second of all: the only 2 sides there are is the oppressor and the oppressed. Palestinians are the fucking oppressed, and I say this as a Palestinian (and an American!) If you want to see how “complicated” this problem is then go onto Twitter and watch the videos Palestinians are sharing and THEN tell me we aren’t innocent. Like bro, throwing rocks or rockets in SELF DEFENSE is 1000000% justified and something I will always defend. Don’t go to Israeli media (which, anyway, doesn’t mind showing you the gang beat-ups of Palestinians lol)

Also, while you are saying there are Israeli citizens that are innocent (which yes, 100% true) you seem to ignore the Israeli citizens out in the streets calling for lynching of Palestinians, entering homes to kill fathers in front of their children, raping the women, forcing themselves into Palestinian homes, and calling for the death of all Arabs, all with the help of the IDF and police. Don’t fucking tell me the citizens are all innocent, many of them are part of this and have been for generations. They are just as complicit as their government in this. I don’t care if they were brainwashed into all the hate they feel, they still are out there adding more fire to the problems. (And NO, I am not referring to IDF soldiers who are forced into duty in this).

The US has brainwashed you into thinking that Palestinians are horrible, that there are two equal sides, that it is a very complicated mind-boggling situation that can’t be solved! That’s all false. I implore you to look at Palestinan sources, both videos, pictures and websites like decolonizepalestine dot com. You already have some awareness of the reality from your ask, but you telling me there’s “both sides” is telling me you have some more work to do. This has been a 73 year old war. Simple. Israel, when attacked, has the Iron Dome, their citizens have bomb shelters, they have a million other protections Palestinians don’t. Palestinians, when attacked, have none of that. They suffer. They die. They get raped. We always pay the larger cost in whatever rocket fire is expelled. Netanyahu said he will bomb Gaza until there is silence. Yeah, that totally sounds like a complicated situation!

No. That simply won’t do. And if you do want to do your readings, do not read Zionist powered publications like the New York Times and the New York post and the like. I repeat that I agree that there is a lot of anti-Semitism in anti-Israel posts, but none of my posts have reflected that, and if they have let me know and I will take them down. This isn’t a religious matter and I understand that, there are Palestinian Jewish ppl as well! They are also suffering under this racist colonial rule

But Palestinians are innocent. We are. We one MILLION percent are. Just because we are fighting back after generations of colonialism, abuse, murder and rape doesn’t make us any less innocent. It makes us fucking fighters for our rights, because a lot of people don’t give a fuck about us and haven’t for 7 decades. Don’t forget that Israel is the instigator of the violence, all the way from 1948. Israel is being attacked because we’re fed up, and it’s not like we’re making much damage anyway, so don’t try to make it out to be that there are both sides that are equal here. Because that isn’t true.

#tala gets asks #anon #palestine tag #plus theres a lot of islamophobia in both pro israel posts & israeli propaganda #also read articles from previous idf soldiers that are now palestinian activits #activists* i have a few if u want them #and also i have BEEN to palestine a handful of times #ive BEEN to jerusalem #ive seen some of this crap with my own eyes #so dont u dare come here and tell me we arent innocent #we are #i have family in the middle of this conflict rn #my aunt who is a doctor is sheikh jarrah who is seeing all this horror #i know how one sided it is #do u?#free. palestine.

26 notes · View notes

schiavonaspada · 4 years ago

Text

Oliver! (1968) Live (re) watch!

i have already seen oliver!, but not in ages, so i decided to watch it again, enjoy

very long post warning

fuckin hell these opening credits are LONG

i love the fact instrumentals of songs in the movie are playing

i have chocolate popcorn, apple lucozade and oliver! on, life is good

yes i know mark lester is oliver ive seen this like 20 times can i watch the film now

OH ABOUT FUCKING TIME

god is love

IS IT WORTH THE WAITING FOR IF WE LIVE TILL 84 ALL WE EVER GET IS GRUELL

i forgot how much of a banger food glorious food is

LOOK AT BABY MARK LESTER 🥺🥺🥺

ads in middle of movie be like

its harry secombe!

AMENNNN

oliver gets bullied the movie

look at this poor kid

MOREE????????

oh yes oliver i love this song

O L I V E R

poor kid

without any bannister yikes

the one who named him........O-L-IV-ERRR

oh were outside now

olivers just been kicked out oh shit

but on the plus side he has a cute ass hat on

BOY FOR SAY AL

look at oliver 🥺 he deserves better

SOWERBERRY MORE LIKE SHITTERBERRY

theres a severe lack of thats your funeral and i shall scream

noah claypole more like noah clayprick

“perhaps... if i had a tall hat?” BABEY

HES GOT HIS TALL HAT ON YES OLIVER

oliver said dab on them haters from your old gaff youre a funeral advisor now and theyre still homeless

DONT INSULT HIS MUM FUCK YOU NOAH

YES OLIVER KILL HIM

yes stuff the nine year old in a coffin and sit on it well done

"OLIVAH ??" "Yes im here: ((("

ITS MEAT!

oliver deserves better man

im gonna cry and were like 25 minutes in.

ik its not mark singing but whoever it is CAN SING WTF

i want to give him a hug

OH SHIT HES RUNNING AWAY

hes in the lettuce

LONDON YOU MADE IT !

yes oliver trains exist

DODGER!!!

whach you starin at aint ya ever seen a toff

the beak

look at lil jack wild

me more hintimate friends

cockney accent™️

the artful dodga

CONSIDERR YOURSSELF AT HOEME COSNIDER YOURSWLF OEN OF THE FAMILY !!!!!!!!!!

im sorry i love this song

look this scene is awesome, but it would be COMPLETE with charley oh wait he was demoted to extra and everything interesting abt him was given to dodger

he should have gotten the nobody tries to be ladeeda or uppity bit I WILL DIE ON THIS HILL

this cast is BIG

okay i am a Charger Enthusiast but do we all agree there is something oddly homosexual about oliver and dodger in this song

note how dodger is scared of the police FORESHADOWING

ive taken to this SO STRONGITSCLEARWEREGOINGTOGETALONG

how many extras is this ???? yall better be gettin paid

its dodga comin up

this set is sraight out of the book i love it

CHARLEY MATE IM SORRY THEY MADE YOU AN EXTRA

“oh not again” does dodger just always show up with random workhouse kids

ah yes fagin the character whos still a negative jewish stereotype

more and more big cast

THESE SAUSAGES ARE MOULDY! (am i going to freak out whenever charley does anything because i love him? yes)

stfu drink your gin

is this a laundry?? no fam

THE BEST FUCKING SONG IN THIS MUSICAL

IN THIS LIFE ONE THING COUNTS

sorry if i dont add to this until pick a pocket or two is done bc its a straight banger

this song is EVERYTHING

hard at work lol ok

did he make those himself??? no

couple a wipes

EMBROIDERED THEM??? no

petition for all oliver twist adaptations to refer to charley as master bates like the book and for him to have actual lines and not have his actor switched at least three times

i dont even now who charley is at this point because his actor is switched many a time im just gonna say purple blazer kid is charley

anyway charley bates supremacy

whos bill sikes??? NO

fuck bill all my homies hate bill

rum tum tum is a banger

go bed now

take your hat off in bed dodger

movie fagin has rights

fagin leaving where will he go

BET IS THAT YOU

FUCK OFF BILL NO ONE LIKES YOU

NANCY NANCY HES HERE !!!!!! bet deserves everything and more ily 💖

NANCYYYY!!!!!!

its a fine life more like its a banger

wheres all of bets lines gone

bet 🤝 charley (being demoted to extras)

its not funny anyore bet.. bet girl please sing youre the best fucking thing about this song

such a happy song about domestic abuse

THERE SHE IS THATS MY GIRL BET I FUCKING LOVE YOU

bullsye rights!

i hate how this movie made fagin more symathetic but he’s still a “greedy jew” stereotype

oliver?????

at this moment fagin knew he fucked up

nancy you deserve better than bill

oh hi dodger forgot you existed

and the rest of you except oliver

ah yes charley “sausages” bates i missed you

THESE FUCKING KIDS THEY ALL LOVE BET AND NANCY MY HEART

im a regular gent i am. no dodger you arent

why is “permit me to assist you across the road” so fucking funny

pov dodgers back on his bullshit so you have to pretend to be a horse and cart for him

not “sir artful” 😭😭😭

anyfink for youu

WHAT FISTICUFFS???!!!

i feel sorry for the child extras man theyve prob had to film this scene like ten times

THESE KIDS CAN SING

the boys dancing with eachother is too fucking wholesome i love this

again, movie fagin rights

weed riissk lifee and limmbb

you promised we could go see the angin!!!!!

ats on boys time were off

THIS IS MY FAVOURITE SONG

HOW COULD WE LET HOW COULD WE FORGET OUR DEAR OLD FAGIN WORRY!!

mate that aint single file did you not hear him

am i the only one who can hear london bridge is falling down in the back??

our pockets hold a watch of gold that chimes upon the hour!!! a wallet fat an old mans hat!!! the jewels from the tower!!!

WE KNOW THE NOSEY POLICEMEENNNN

dodger and charley (i am SURE charley is purple blazer kid even if havent seen this film in ages) are GETTING INTO THIS

oliver 🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺

movie fagin rights pt 27238227

DODGER OLIVER COME ON!!!!!!!!! alright dude chill

ARE YALL SEEING THIS SHIT, I WAS RIGHT, I TOLD YOU THAT THE LAD IN THE PURPLE BLAZER WHO SINGS “a wallet fat an old mans hat” WAS CHARLEY BATES AND GUESS WHAT HE FUCKING IS. I WAS RIGHT, PURPLE BLAZER KID IS CHARLEY YOU CAN LEAVE NOW

no dont were only an hour in

three kids on the back of the omnibus what will they do

dodger and charley said be gay do crimes

ah shit now look what youve gotten us into dodger

IT WASNT EVEN OLIVER IT WAS CHARLEY AND DODGER GO AFTER THEM

are dodger and charley straight up framing oliver for a crime they commited while also helping him escape

yes they are why are we surprised

i hate to break it to you dodger but hiding oliver in a meat sack doesnt work

OLIVERS ON THE ROOF????

charley and dodger got oliver into this mess and they are not going to get him out

WHY DIDNT YOU LOOK AFTER HIM????? right calm down fagin

how could i help it :((((

no bill!

stan nancy

“two other boys stole it” no shit

BROWNLOW !

run bitch run

right intermission time now

AND WE’RE BACK!

entr acte

who will buyyy

strawberry girl is carrying this

oliver owns my heart pt 278983728938728

this is a banger wtf

okay its done now right

right?????

UHH BILL???? DODGER???? BITCH WHY TF ARE YOU HERE

have bill fagin nancy and the boys been stalking oliver???

NO SHE WONT FAGIN!

shit.

fuck bill

this scene is far more sadder when you think of how the boys have just seen the only woman they see as a mother figure been hit to the flo or, im not crying, you are

as long as he needs me :(

FUCK YOU BILL

rose maylie is that you?!

look at lil oliver!!

BILL FUCK OFF

i hate bill

“look at his togs! he’s got books too!” charley and dodger are my emotional support kids

anyway have i mentioned i hate bill, bc i hate bill.

I REALLY REALLY HATE BILL

even fagin aka the guy whos keeping these kids as pickpockets has more morals than bill

WE STAY CALM!!

no bill i havent heard a dying chicken

act one was just childish antics now we have THIS

fuck bill

YOURE TELLING ME THE BOYS WATCHED THAT????

jack wild is a banging actor. he genuinely looks terrified 🥺

this film..

a mans got a heart hasnt he?? yes you do!!!

a full song dedicated to movie fagin rights?? did i ghostwrite this?? probably

banger

ithinkidbetterthinkitoutagain!

villains theives and nine year olds

MR BUMBLE?????!!!!!!!!!!

fuck bill pt72898376728909878199

bill youre traumatising him

cmon nance do something!!

also completely forgot abt this but uh does monks exist in this i forgot bc we have had no mentions of him yet

nancy tell him who bill is!!!

bullseye deserves better

uhm what is going on

bill sikes more like bill yikes

oliver what are you doing

BILL TERRIFIES ME

FUCK

omg oom pah pah????

leave oliver alone bill hes like nine

oh banger

OOM PAH PAH THATS HOW IT GOES!!!!!!!!!

just asking are nancy and bet lesbians bc they look it

COULD IT BE OOM PAH PAHHHHHH

god i love this song

IT SHOOOOOWSSSSSS

its the same oom pah pah

“She was from the country but now shes up a gumtree she let a fella feed her then lead her a long” foreshadowiinnggg

OOM PAH PAH! OOM PAH PAH! OOM PAH PAH!

nancy is so fucking smart

getting the whole pub singing and dancing to smuggle out oliver? clever

fuck

bill.. no.. bill.. bill????

FUCKFUCKFUCKFUCKFUCKC

BILL GET OFF HER

NANCY NO

HE STRAIGHT UP COMMIT MURDER AGAINST THE NICEST CHARACTER

BROWNLOW DO YOU NOT HEAR NOTHING

nancy deserved a better death than to be killed by bill fuck bill

EVEN BULLSEYE HATES YOU BILL

ARE THEY ACCUSING BULLSEYE OF MURDER

FUCK YOU BILL

movie fagin rights + fuck bill combo?

youre telling me fagin had an ESCAPE ROUTE??? AT THE BOTTOM OF THE HOUSE THING??? THE WHOLE TIME???

BILL DONT KILL THE CHILD

BILL

fuck, well. #

“WHAT DO I DO!?” “LIVE UP TO YOUR NAME, DODGE ABOUT”

ten quid says dodgers been caught

oh no all fagins shit is gone

BILL DONT KILL THE CHILD PT 2

FUCK YOU BILL

GOD I HATE HIM

OLIVER MATE ARE YOU OK

never have i been so happy to see a character die

rest in shit bill

hi dodger thought you got caught n went to australia

god, this film is so fucking good.

reviewing the situation 2.0 goes hard

MOVIE. FAGIN. RIGHTS!

FAGIN YOU CAN BE A GOOD MAN YOU KNOW YOU CAN

DODGER??????????

IM TOTALLY NOT CRYING RN

FAGIN NO DONT TAKE IT

FUCKING PLOTTWIST

IT MADE IT LOOK LIKE FAGIN WAS GONNA GIVE THE WALLET BACK TO DODGER BUT NO

once the villain you’re the villain to the end

i completely forgot abt this scene since i’ve been reading the oliver twist book and in that dodger gets arrested and fagin gets hanged but here they get away?

god this is bittersweet

I THINK WE’D OUGHT TO THINK IT OUT AGAIN!!!!!

thats where the film should have ended, i get olivers the main character but it ending on dodger and fagin walking out into the sunset is such a pleasing ending man

oliver gets his happy ending abt time

YES CONSIDER YOURSELF AND BE BACK SOON (THE BIGGEST BANGERS IN THE FILM) CREDITS SONGS!!

well.. that was a journey and half

#oliver!#oliver twist #oliver #oliver! 1968 #oliver 1968 #charlie’s comfort movies #oliver twist 1968 #oliver! the musical #oliver the musical #musicals #1960s #1960s movies #60s #mark lester #jack wild #oliver reed #ron moody #shani wallis #and everyone else in the huge ass cast

26 notes · View notes

millenial-net-utopia-2010 · 9 months ago

Text

I believe that if exclusion and choice became protected rights a number of potentially brilliant solutions might start emerging. Several schools which exclude via money and location are able to do better. British elite Private Schooling is still quite solid. The Grammars weren't allowed to discriminate on merit, but british leftists tolerate good schools excluding on money.

As I kind of alluded to in the Steiner thread, I think it'd be great if people could just make their own schools and we let the results speak for themselves. A spread of purpose oriented educations. Some already exist. We see fundamentalist islamist schooling for example. It produces human garbage. Fundamentalist Jew education. Human garbage. Steiner Schools. Weirdos. Christian Homeschooling communes. Weirdos who turn into gigahicklibs in reaction and then set themselves on fire for tiktok memes. Let humanity keep trying and someone will get it right.

You could say allowing so many potentially horrific failures to proliferate would be cruel. But my answer, the standard solution is already horrific. I would prefer free market insanity to top-down imposed monoculture insanity.

This is of course my solution for what we'll euphemistically call open societies of the 21st century. If any real country wanted to stabilise itself and operate as a national project again my answer would probably be to just recreate british grammar schooling and its peers.

Antice said: I would consider Gen Z gentle or retarded giants. Imagine the power they wield and how much more will come after the inverse birth pyramid will die out. Most of us grow up in one of the most peaceful times in the history of mankind. The schools aren't adapted to handle that. (So a silent reform is taking place.) Another rise of the politicalized classroom, the propagating teacher, war mongrels and profiteers. But my view on this matter could be influenced by the recent watching of 1864. So I mostly agree with Antoine.

As Einstein puts it: Education is what isn't forgotten. My take on schools is: You get everything needed for most jobs and can forget the things you don't at the door. But I'm frustrated about how much time everything takes/needs and try my best to simply accelerate things. ...

The only system I trust, is the one where I can make up my own options. (Server rules; If god forbids, it would not be possible)

(It's always impossible until someone does it) ...

Since god is dead, we kill idols (influencers) at an alarming rate. I heard a quote similar to:"A wise man sees a young man struggling with the same challenges he once faced, knowing that through overcoming them, the young man will grow wiser." Do the older ones push us to add strength, to form our character or is it really just Machiavellian tendencies?

Perhaps you are right. I'm interested in your solution of a new globalistic school. What does the world need now!? Click to expand…

I don't see why killing God would necessitate the loss of individual human celebrities. After all, if we slaughter Yahweh, we can worship all the false idols we want. This is why I think it's very important to espouse the values of Secular Humanism among the young crowd, such that they understand it's OK to appreciate the output of real human beings.

nsequeira119 said: Yeah, those are good- I don't mean at all to undersell or overlook the creative visions that Gen Z already has. Gen Z has a great deal of unique aphorisms, culture, etc. but it isn't understood or catalogued by older generations, who just dismiss it. Step one in building a healthy, functional generation might be recognizing the contributions to culture which have already been made. I'd say the biggest difference between Gen Z and previous generations is that we don't value the individual. We don't have any celebrities- at least not yet- who are distinct, recognizable people with unique outlooks. Moreso our culture is a collective soupy hodgepodge which places ideologies over individuals. That might not necessarily be unworkable, it might even lead to great results- but we need to refine and understand it. I'm not sure a "healthy, functional generation" can really exist, since they, as invented by Karl Mannheim, only are really defined by bad or disruptive things happening to a cohort of people, in turn affecting future generations based on how they react. Perhaps the healthiest generation is one that doesn't screw up the world bad enough to create further generation-defining events.

I don't think Gen-Z can really contribute to "culture" because there is no longer anything common to bind people except living in the same economic zone called a "country". There are absolutely no pressures on me to start saying "on Jah" and listening to Lil Uzi because good taste is in a complete anarchic state right now, and the old institutions that used to have the monopoly on what people did, watched, read, etc. barely even exist. Instead, algorithms tell us to embrace hyper-specific interests that makes everyone a foreigner to everyone else. The downfall of the celebrity is from people no longer all caring about one thing together. Can zoomerkids still create works of art? Yes, but they won't be universally popular. Instead of a return to the 20th Century monoculture I find it more likely there will be fracturing, as small weird identities gain traction and fight with each other.

Your first mistake was thinking that you're entitled to anything. Culture has always been the top dogs' bitch. You can see this in the transformation of "culture" from the feudalists' impotent baroque masturbation to the even more insufferable wank that was early bourgeois nationalism, to the even more insufferable wank that was impressionism etc. etc...

Since the late 1800s "culture" has been a consoomer's shitfuck to be bought and sold to the proto-hitlerite "middle class", and that process of consoomifying art has only snowballed. "Art" and "culture" no longer have any pretentious dickwad value in and of themselves, but only value in how much they sell for. That's why we've recently seen the total obliteration of what little specks of joy could be found in this

nightmare called the internet, because the pedophilic masturbatory death march of the bourgeois has begun metaphorically pissing and shitting hot steamy liquid over any old frameworks; buying up domains, consolidating the flow of information between a few large partners. It isn't right to call it "technofeudalism" because we aren't even allowed to slack off as much as feudal peasants did; the internet

is slowly being absorbed into a few massive cybercartels. These cartels' castrated public forums strip away individuality to a profile picture and handle, flood the user with a mindless sewage spill of "content", and don't allow them the time or resources to think for a while, just keep scrolling... Yes, the modern cartel is designed to provoke aggression in its users, the drawing of battle lines, the

psychic train of addiction through petty likes and follows, we know, we've all seen the sheer brainlessness of the average Xitter user, who has staked out lines on le Culture War issue of the day, the same bloodlust showing as the smug androids that run these shitholes collect their money from idiots. The technocratic cartels of today obey the same principles as those of early-1900s Germany—

Phoebus' lightbulb killings and the like— and like Phoebus they march towards war, because that's where the money is. And these won't be the chudjak manly trad wars of Macedon or Rome, no, these wars will be automated on ChatGPT-9/11 and shitcoin deposits as the bunch of fat bastards that are the ringleaders smoke pot and masturbate, observing a field of infant corpses, their soldiers.

another great new, related thread

Is the economy a zero sum game?

A quick google search of this question gives a resounding answer: "No, IDIOT!" The reason given for why the economy isn't zero sum is "wealth creation", a nebulous ill-defined concept which I'm not entirely sure exists, at least not in the way it's usually touted. A common explanation of why...

new

On deceit: Why does honesty seem so scarce?

Good evening Cafe. Maybe you can relate; I feel like I'm on the receiving end of a lot more lies than I ought to be. For the past few years, as I've entered my 20s I've formed quite a few friendships that have been called into question, and sometimes ended, due to boldfaced lies or personal...

Code:https://twitter.com/tulpapilled/status/1771142712588398942

GONNA REVAMP THIS BLOG... USED TO BE PR ADS, - NOW, IT IS PLACE FOR NEW AESTHETICS - "NET UTOPIA 2010" (TENTATIVE NAME)

23 notes · View notes

47-shades-of-hitman · 4 years ago

Text

In Your Likeness | Chapter 5 - A sliver of humanity

“Hey, you down for a run?”

Agent 47 looked up from the folder Diana had given him and saw you standing on the threshold, hands on your hips. Your hair had been tightly tucked behind your ears and instead of your usual Assassin’s attire, you now wore a somewhat more casual fit.

“Why not.” he said, standing up and putting away the documents.

You hummed and plopped down on one of the available chairs.

“Well then, I’ll wait here for a bit until you’re ready to go.”

He frowned. “Wait for what?”

“For you to put on your training gear, or something more breathable.” you said.

After a moment of silence you turned to him.

“You aren’t going to tell me that your plan was to… To run in that suit?”

“What’s wrong with that?”

“Well, a lot actually.” you explained, “People will stare. Besides, it’s very hot outside.”

“I function just right in this no matter the heat.”

You arose from your seat and crossed your arms, opposing him. “It looks ridiculous. A man sprinting in a suit like that through ancient Jerusalem. Tell you what, we’ll take an alternative route instead.”

Agent 47 wasn’t sure what you meant – “Alternative route?”

Instead of answering, you turned on your heel and left the room, the hitman soon following. He easily caught up to you and in silence, you left the Brotherhood’s quarters.

Despite the scorching heat, you broke out into a slight jog to warm up.

“Do you do parkour?” you quizzed upon approaching a wall.

“Excuse me?”

You flung yourself onto it, grabbing ridges and bricks that were sticking out, climbing up with practised ease. In about six seconds, you stood on top of a two-story building, peering over the edge to see what was taking him so long.

“I’m not sure if I…”

You pointed at the drainpipe on the side of the wall, shrugging. “Just use that. You’ll learn.”

47 climbed up and dusted down his slacks right after. “Heavily reliant on scaling buildings, aren’t you?”

You chuckled dryly.

“The Assassins have been doing that since the beginning of the Brotherhood. If anything, it’s one of our most important skills. It’s a fantastic way to go from A to B unseen, and way quicker at that. I don’t carry them on me at this moment, but on one of my bracers I do have a grappling hook which I can use to my advantage.”

Walking over the flat rooftops, you hopped from one house to the other, staying out of sight from balconies and cameras.

“The beginning of the Brotherhood,” Agent 47 repeated. “How far back does it date? Golden Age? Middle Ages?”

A laugh fell from your lips and you jumped down a ledge before propelling yourself up a higher wall, gripping the edge. After hoisting yourself up, you turned back to help 47 out, but he managed just fine on his own.

“No, 47. The Brotherhood of Assassin originates in ancient Egypt.”

“Egypt?”

“In the time of Cleopatra. The Hidden Ones were the first ones, but no one knows who they really were. Eventually, it grew out into a Brotherhood for people carrying out assassinations and protecting our employers. Long story short: through the ages, we spread all over the world. Greece, Italy, America, France, England… You name it.”

47 let out a sound of surprise, since he had never known that it dated so far back.

“Our cause was to fight for peace above all things. Protect the people who needed us to do so. Working in the dark to serve the light. Our motto – nothing is true, everything is permitted .”

You halted and looked out over the Wailing Wall, folding your hands on your back. Taking in the sight of Jews gathering to pray brought a sense of serenity.

“We fight for peace in freedom. And in that, we differ from our enemies, the Templars, or their more public name nowadays, Abstergo Industries . Once founded in the early thousands, set on claiming back the Holy Land under a veil of Catholicism, but under the surface, a whole lot less to do with whatever peace the church preaches. The Order of the Knights Templar once believed that peace could only be gained through oppression of lesser people and dictatorship.”

You shuddered even though the weather was far from cold – thoroughly appalled by the idea of them.

“And eventually, it became an institute of rich men seeking to become more wealthy and powerful. And then came the Pieces of Eden. Of course they already existed, but the more modern war about them, I mean.”

For a moment, you looked over at 47 to see if he was still listening. His eyes were as blue as the sky and made your heart skip a beat. Every time you saw that colour you remembered that they were the bluest shade you had ever seen.

Deciding to proceed walking, you stepped away, 47 in tow.

“I promise I won’t bore you for any longer.” you said, “If I’m talking too much, just say the word.”

“Well,” 47 began, “I was the one who asked you to teach me about the Brotherhood of Assassins, did I not?”

Your lips quirked upward and you exhaled. “I suppose. Tell me about you first, it would only be fair.”

“If you insist.” he said, “At the moment, I work for the ICA. It’s an organization handling contracts given by clients. I’m their hitman for particularly difficult jobs.”

“Like seeking out a secret organization created by both of our enemies.”

“Correct. As you know, I’m genetically made to be the best assassin one can create, with a very low failure rate.”

You hopped down a few roofs and reached a lower wall, where you jumped off, landing on the cobble street. Your conversation hadn’t made you able to do some parkouring through the town, anyway.

“Since you told your story quite quickly, I shall make mine short, too. I killed Ort-Meyer, who created me through his experiments, wanted to leave the world of killing by living with a priest, but eventually, he got kidnapped and I was pulled back into the trade. After all, I barely know how to do anything else.”

A large grin spread over your face as you two walked down the street, pushing past a few tourists in the process. “A priest? Never expected you of all people to take interest in such things.”

“I tended to the garden.” 47 explained, unsure why he was telling you this – after all, he barely knew you and whatever he was telling could be used against him, for he couldn’t be seen as weak.

But your eyes were kind and glimmered in amusement as you looked at him.

“Look at you, the one purely created to take lives, tends and cares for it.”

47’s gut twisted in confusion at the lack of humour in your voice. Where he had expected you to mock him for it, you were inexplicably accepting. “I suppose.” he mused.

“And here we are.” you added. “This way.”

You guided him outside of the ancient city and went uphill for a while, the Mount of Olives at your right hand.

“The Pieces of Eden, then.” 47 reminded you.

“Oh, yes.” you breathed, “The Pieces of Eden grant the holder great power over others. The Templars want those artefacts for themselves, so the Creed countered by making it their duty to do all to prevent that. And if we know where those artefacts are, we can keep an eye on them, take them to hide them away and most importantly, avoid conflict.”

“Avoid conflict? That clashes with our current mission.”

“Well, if it can be avoided. We’re not afraid to fight for it. Peace through freedom, I mean. Sometimes force is needed, and so it shall be done.” you concluded, shrugging a little.

“And you, what is your story?” 47 quizzed as the pair of you halted on top of the Mount of Olives. You were slightly out of breath because of the heat, holding your hand above your brow to shield yourself from the sunlight. The golden Dome of the Rock stood shining brightly.

“I’m (Y/n) (L/n), thirty-five years old, Master Assassin of Jerusalem’s Brotherhood. Nothing that you don’t know of.”

Agent 47 huffed. “That’s not what I meant.”

“Why the interest?” you softly quizzed. “It’s not that it matters.”

“You said you wanted to become acquainted.”

You smirked, folding your hands on your back, closing your eyes to enjoy the light of the sun on your cheeks.

“I was born into the Brotherhood, like my father and his father’s father. Needless to say, we have a long history in the Creed. Not the most prominent or anything, but quite famous. My father’s side of the family consisted of ruthless Assassins, living for their trade. My father fell in love with a young female Assassin and married her – my mother. They had my brother, Joseph, and me. All was well and my parents were loved by the Brotherhood, but one day, my father died while on duty.”

Your voice faltered upon ending your sentence, and you looked at your boots for a moment, exhaling deeply. “I never really got to know the man who he was behind the blade. He trained us, and everything I know, I know from him. In hindsight, he was more a mentor than a father. I respect him greatly, but I never felt like I was his daughter. I suppose it’s a bit strange… Well, not for you. In theory, you killed the man who put you onto this Earth.”

Agent 47 hummed, breathing in the scorching air.

“And your mother?”

“She’s in Thailand, in a retirement home set up by Assassins. There she can live her final days in peace, try to forget about the passing of her husband and her son, but with her later stage of Alzheimer’s, I’m not sure where her emotions are at the moment.”

Gesturing to the side, you told Agent 47 to head down the street.

“What happened to Joseph?”

You halted in your tracks, a few tourists that had been walking behind you nearly bumping into you, muttering something angry in what you recognized to be Spanish – Perdona , you murmured, shaking your head before resuming your walk, albeit at a quicker pace now.

“I don’t like to talk about it.” you said, “Maybe another time. I’ve already told a lot about myself. Enough for now. We should get to actually working out, now.”

Breaking out into a jog, you started running down the street, passing by tourists every now and then.

“Do you often run?” 47’s voice was unusually steady given that you were dashing forward at quite a pace.

“As often as I can. Keeps me fit.”

He hummed in agreement. “Can’t argue with that.”

You went running through a few streets before speaking again – “Mind if I spice this up a bit?”

Before 47 could respond, however, you were already scaling a high wall on your left, pushing yourself up with practised ease. He spotted a drainpipe and sighed in acceptance, soon following you up the roof.

When he finally vaulted onto it, he saw that you were already a few buildings away, leaping from one with so much as the bat of an eye.

“Are you seeing this?” he asked, then realizing that Diana couldn’t hear him – after all, he wasn’t on a mission and thus he didn’t carry his trackers – and he knew that pursuing you wouldn’t bring him anywhere. Another thing he recognized was that he lacked an important skill he hadn’t realised he didn’t have, until now. You leapt further and further away, gracefully so, as if you were dancing.

Where he mostly blended into the crowd, hiding in plain sight, you were away in the blink of an eye, gone with the wind.

You looked over your shoulder, seeing him just stand on the roof where you had left him. He was watching you with an odd posture, as if he wasn’t sure what to make of your antics.

Smirking, you shook your head, resuming your trip back to the headquarters. Bouncing to the edge, you peered down the side of the roof to see if it was all still clear, and upon seeing that the bushes were still soft and plump enough to fall upon, you spread your arms, diving off.

Agent 47 felt his stomach churn in shock, his breath hitching as he watched you jump. As if snapped out of a trance, he darted to the end as quickly as he could, immediately figuring out the importance of scaling and parkour in the speed at which he was currently going.

He came to a halt at the edge and leaned over it to find you standing with your arms crossed, raising an eyebrow at him.

“I thought you…”

“Hm…” you replied. “Come on, let’s get back to the headquarters.”

47 slid down a drainpipe and walked up to you.

“That was… Impressive.” 47 stated as you resumed your trip back to the base.

“Thank you.” you mused, “That dive was a Leap of Faith. Took a long time to master.”

“I can imagine.”

You turned your face away, smiling in amusement.

Even though it was tiny, a bond was starting to form.

These months were going to become interesting, you figured.

#agent 47 x reader #agent 47 x female reader #Assassin's Creed X Hitman crossover #hitman #agent 47 #reader insert #In Your Likeness

11 notes · View notes

melias-cimitiere · 4 years ago

Text

MINORITY REPORT

People who are interested in being honest, true to themselves and to others, eager to learn truth about things (scientific, historical, etc) and acquire knowledge, please keep reading. Everyone else, carry on with your daily activities; this article will clearly not impact on you in any positive way.

There has been a growing concern during the last few years that people have a tendency to “save the tree and burn the forest”; this is a mentality of gross generalizations, over-simplistic attitudes towards right and wrong, and superficial ideological bubbles that do not take into account reality. When historical truth is no longer convenient, when people forget the right use of words and terms and come up with the trendy, politically correct speech while disregarding the established definitions, then watch out: Big Brother is about (the 1984 George Orwell concept).

Minorities’ rights

There is a large number of people who tend to be sympathetic towards any groups, just because they are labelled as a minority. Instead of examining what they stand for and who they truly are (given a historical perspective), they moralize on their behalf and fiercely try to protect them, with a simplistic and gullible attitude. Let’s try and ask some basic questions:

Are their rights more/less important than anyone else’s?

We should be talking about human rights, and not minorities’ rights. If these groups are human groups, then they have some rights; these rights are protected by United Nations and various Constitutions, and political assemblies worldwide, and any proven violation is condemned. Why should any human group have more (or less) rights than any other group?

Are the minorities always correct?

Of course not. Whoever believes this tends to be extremely naïve. For example, amidst the minorities hide some rather loathsome groups (or individuals), such as Nazis, KKK, international terrorists (like Isil/Isis/Daesh, Al-Qaeda etc). And what about the minority groups of suicide cults, slavery rings, drug-dealers, “black market” merchants (of weapons, substances, toxins, organs etc)? What about serial killers or pedophiles? As you can see, membership in a minority group doesn’t automatically make you correct in all things.

Issue of historical guilt

What is trendy or fashionable doesn’t make it necessarily better or right. Nowadays it is not trendy or fashionable to expose certain historical facts because certain groups feel discomfort. This is not new; in fact, it has been an issue with history and with science since the very beginning. When Galileo showed the Earth is round and spins around itself, it caused certain “waves”; people even demanded his death. We still have the Flat Earth Society despite scientific evidence of the contrary. With regards to history and warfare, you will not find any parties that are not guilty. In fact, nearly every nation in the world has committed atrocities, vandalism, slavery, aggressive occupation and its army/warriors raping innocent victims etc. In the history of Mankind there are very few true innocents.

If we do not acknowledge such occurrences as inherent in human nature and as potential threats for everyone, we are doomed to repeat them in the future. Fascism and Nazism is not only a German thing; Slavery isn’t just a “white thing”; Colonialism isn’t just a British thing. We need to address the issues, recognize and study what makes these happen, and confront them. We must all stand united against this, and not devolve into group mentality and us against the others. We need to challenge our own mindset and free ourselves from pre-conceived ideas. Minorities get overly sensitive when people criticize certain behaviors or the past. And yet, how can one hope to be free from prejudice, when one refuses to see the truth, opting to be part of the herd?

What is Racism?

“Prejudice, discrimination, or antagonism directed against a person or people on the basis of their membership of a particular racial or ethnic group, typically one that is a minority or marginalized.”

“The belief that different races possess distinct characteristics, abilities, or qualities, especially so as to distinguish them as inferior or superior to one another.”

[Oxford Dictionary]

“policies, behaviours, rules, etc. that result in a continued unfair advantage to some people and unfair or harmful treatment of others based on race”.

Also:

“harmful or unfair things that people say, do, or think based on the belief that their own race makes them more intelligent, good, moral, etc. than people of other races”.

[Cambridge University]

So as you can see, racism doesn’t have to do with minorities specifically. Minority groups can also be racist to majority groups, or some nations/people claim to be superior or “God’s chosen” while this is blatantly racist and, by definition, a harmful and unfair behavior. On a final note, just because certain groups have been persecuted historically, this doesn’t justify them to persecute others while claiming to be victims of racism, as this would be hypocrisy.

What is Discrimination? How is it different to Prejudice?

1. “The unjust or prejudicial treatment of different categories of people, especially on the grounds of race, age, sex, or disability.”

2. “Recognition and understanding of the difference between one thing and another”.

Usually people tend to forget the second definition, and over time, discrimination becomes something negative. What about, “a discriminative mind is a mark of wisdom?” Should you not pick and choose according to preference? Are all things the same? Obviously not. Prejudice, on the other hand, is always negative. It is wrong in so many ways to be prejudiced against people of any group; this doesn’t just apply to minorities. However, that doesn’t mean that a person cannot choose what he/she prefers. Preference is an act of freedom.

Some groups seem to imply that if a person says that he/she is heterosexual, that it means that they are homophobic. I hate prejudice; I support equal rights. I also fully support the second definition of discrimination; I do this all the time. I choose what I like to eat, where to hang out and who to have sex with. I have specific gender preferences; my choices don’t make me phobic of the other minority groups (another wrong use of the word phobic, meaning fear of something. Not wanting to have sex with specific types of peoples doesn’t mean I fear them, it simply means that I don’t like it and I prefer something else). I also choose what to read, what to reject, what kinds of music or movies to watch and so on. I’m sure you do all that too. So remember to use the words correctly.

What is antisemitism?

Semitic groups have been known to spread to a vast region in the Eastern Mediterranean all the way down to the Persian Gulf. Examples are: the Canaanites, the Akkadians, the Babylonians, and the Chaldeans that settled the Mesopotamian South where the Euphrates empties into the Gulf (from the tribe Kaldu – a Semitic tribe from the Amorites), the Jebusites, the Jewish tribes, the Arameans, and many more. So to pick just one of them and say it is the only Semitic group is doing disservice to the rest and is also appropriating people’s ethnic background.

Also, just because several of these groups were historically persecuted (Jews, Palestinians, small minorities in Iraq and Syria, etc) doesn’t give them immunity from blame when they are the ones committing crimes of racism or persecution. It has become a common thing in certain places from the Levant that one cannot bring about anything in discussion relating history or politics, from fear of offending their sensibilities. This has to stop. People should be freely discussing their opinions, and with the right evidence, they should be able to accept new data. Believing that people from minorities have indemnity from scrutiny is a naïve and socially dangerous stance.

Stereotyping and Reverse Pendulum Mentality

Protect battered mothers / women (but not battered fathers / men?)

Protect raped females (but what about raped males?)

Protect a specific group of a certain ethnic background while turning a blind eye towards other groups of different backgrounds whose rights are violated.

A child goes first (but what about elderly, mentally ill etc which are categories often neglected?)

Homophobic is a bad thing (and not heterophobic?)

A group or groups of different gender definitions must be protected (but shouldn’t all people’s choices on this matter be protected, no matter what?)

It is common, when society realizes that the rights of a certain minority have been violated (ie in the case of persecution, slavery, racist hostility and even killings because of that like the pogroms against Jews and other races), that society goes overboard and through overprotecting, refuse even the slightest of blame, even in documented cases. And yet, there have been plenty of people belonging to minority groups who were guilty of various crimes, including slavery, discrimination or collaborating with the enemy (and all these have been documented also). Minorities can easily become oppressors and they have done so, from ancient to modern times, as any student of history can testify.

Politically correct

We need to see some definitions of this; in the past, I used to pay a lot of notice and try to accommodate to that standard. Not so much now, and I will explain why.

“The avoidance of forms of expression or action that are perceived to exclude, marginalize, or insult groups of people who are socially disadvantaged or discriminated against.” [Oxford dictionary]

“Conforming to a belief that language and practices which could offend political sensibilities (as in matters of sex or race) should be eliminated” [Merriam-Webster]

“Someone who is politically correct believes that language and actions that could be offensive to others, especially those relating to sex and race, should be avoided.” [Cambridge University]

So look again the above definitions and note the words ‘perceived’ in the first, ‘conforming to a belief’ in the second, and ‘believes’ in the third. All these are subjective, thus arbitrary. If one wishes to be well-behaved, then by all means, one should take into account the sensibilities of others over various issues. However, in matters of spirituality, philosophy, history or science, one should care more about the objective truth and less about how people feel about certain aspects of the truth.

Examples include some of the following:

How many people died in a genocide (numbers differ according to which side you ask);

Is a certain behavior sign/symptom of mental illness (again, the psychiatrists will often tell a different story compared to members of various groups);

Are all people equal? (This often gets mistranslated as an inflammatory comment, aiming to annoy others meaning that they don’t deserve equal opportunities and rights. I am talking about people being equal in skills, IQ, innate abilities etc. Anyone who believes they are equal, must believe in that the humans are a race of robots coming from the same factory and production line.)

Thought Police vs Right to Free Speech

Seeking to prevent possible injustices before they even occur… seems pro-active and good, doesn’t it? Has anyone watched the film, Minority Report? If no, watch it. What about, Fahrenheit 451? Another excellent film (a bit old but a masterpiece). Do you believe in freedom? Can you say what you think without fear? Ask yourself if you should double-guess yourself every time you need to say or write something. People around you are a varied lot; many will not agree with what you say or do. Should you be made to feel intimidated by that? I don’t think so. You have a right to believe what you want and also your freedom of speech is safeguarded by the constitution.

Cultural Appropriation

A touchy subject for a lot of people. “Closed religions”? Kabbalah, deities, voodoo, Hindu beliefs, Native Indian spirit animals etc… the list goes on and on. Are we serious here? I mean, who makes these things up? Wake up people! There is NO closed religion. If a spiritual person or a person with respect approaches a concept or a deity/spirit and that deity/spirit accepts them, then it’s not up to the people to judge badly and condemn this approach! I can (and do) use whatever I want; my judgement is all I need, and that makes me a free man. Please, do not bend to such criticism; learn to think for yourselves. Learn, and experience things directly, if possible. You are born Free, like me. Do not bend to slave mentalities.

Constitutional Rights

Lastly, a bit of the obvious. Surely you are aware that any constitution of a country where there’s democracy and not a totalitarian regime safeguards certain freedoms. One of them is the right to think, speak, write and believe freely. Read up on your rights! Don’t take for granted what other people want you to believe; research yourself and then put them in their place. Protect those rights. People died to establish and to protect them in the past; now you got the ball, it’s your call.

#rights #minorities #stereotypes #appropriation #free speech #thought police #discrimination #prejudice #racism #constitutional freedom

17 notes · View notes